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Marinette has always had a bit of a love-hate relationship with autumn.
On the one hand, she finds it to be the most beautiful time of the year. The sunflowers on her balcony in full bloom, the clear blue skies above in contrast to the blazing yellow and orange leaves falling all around her, the dappled light that filters through trees, casting dancing shadows on Paris’ incredible architecture; it’s an artist’s paradise.
But on the other hand, the newfound chill in the air and the early sunsets serve as a painful reminder that winter isn’t far behind.
And Marinette hates winter.
By October, she’s already bundled up in scarves, complaining about the cold. Clutching hot chocolates in her cold hands as she trudges to school every morning, she mourns the loss of summer’s embrace. When it rains, all she wants to do is hide away, shrouded in warmth and watching the gloom take over from a safe distance.
Unfortunately for her, Adrien loves the rain.
“Come on, Marinette! You’re missing out on all the fun!” He calls out, grinning from ear to ear as he stands in the midst of the downpour.
Okay, maybe “downpour” is a bit of an exaggeration. It’s barely more than a light drizzle.
But still .
“Not gonna happen, Adrien,” she replies with a shrug. “I don’t do rain. You know this.”
He looks over at her with a playful pout, and she hates the fact that she finds it adorable. “Come on! Please?”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “It’s gonna take a lot more than ‘please’ to get me out there.”
“But I’m so lonely out here all by myself, Princess! Would you really be so cruel as to leave a friend out in the cold?”
Her heart gives a tug at the familiar nickname. It had begun last year, when she somehow ended up playing Cinderella in their class play. As the prince, he used to jokingly pull out all the stops in their rehearsals, with over the top displays of affection that had her in stitches. But despite the joke of it all, the nickname stuck, and became something the two of them shared fondly. At the time, she hadn’t realised it made her feel so special because she had feelings for him, but now…
“Really? You wanna pull the ‘Princess’ card?”
“Depends. Is it working?”
He’s right in front of her now, green eyes brilliant against the gloomy sky, twinkling with mirth as he grins. It kills her that he has the power to disarm her with a simple smile, but she’s gone and she knows it.
“Ugh. Fine.”
But as he laughs triumphantly, pulling her out into the cold, she can’t find it in herself to care.
///
Adrien has always loved autumn.
He’s not very artistically minded, like his father or Marinette or some of his other friends, but he can admire the trees shrouded in fiery reds and oranges, and the cobblestones dotted with those same colours as fallen leaves crunch beneath his boots, and the smell of oncoming rain. He’s even been known to dance in the rain once or twice. Call it cliché if you will; it doesn’t bother him. He’s spent enough of his life controlled and restricted and constantly hyper-aware of his own image. He’s perfectly okay with looking downright ridiculous every once in a while.
Especially if he can persuade his favourite girl to join him.
She rolls her eyes as he pulls her away from under the shading she’d been hiding in, but he can see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Care to dance, my lady?” he asks with a sweeping bow. She laughs, placing her hand in his.
“Certainly, my prince.”
It starts as a terribly clumsy, exaggerated rendition of the waltz they’d had to learn for their parts in Cinderella, but somewhere along the way he loses his silly theatrical flirtations, his head filled only with thoughts of her. Her soft laughter is all he can hear, despite the rain around them. Her eyes, far bluer than any sky, rest on him and him alone.
“Do you remember the day we met?” he finds himself asking. She laughs.
“How could I forget? Me making assumptions and being horrible, you completely proving me wrong.. It’s ingrained into my memory.”
“Not to mention, you stealing my umbrella and claiming it as yours for the rest of time,” he teases.
“Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t realise your generosity had an expiry date!” she retorts, grinning wide despite the air of mock anger.
“For you, Princess? Never,” he replies, his smile matching hers. As he hears his own words he wants to cringe at the undeniable affection in his voice. He's so far gone and he can't even hide it. But when her smile turns soft and she looks down and it seems like the pink in her cheeks might not be from the cold, he finds himself thinking that maybe he doesn't really mind being so obviously infatuated.
He hadn't exactly ever planned on telling her how he felt about her. Sure, he's been holding out hope for the past few months that one day they'd get together somehow, but the thought of initiating that conversation has always made him nervous. They’ve got such a good thing; he doesn't want to mess with that.
But right here, swaying with her in the cold, the world around them unassuming and quiet but for the rain, he might finally feel brave enough to take that risk.
“Marinette?”
“Mm?”
She looks up at him, inquisitive. With the dull backdrop of cloudy sky behind her her eyes are dazzling, and her cheeks are definitely tinted pink. He smiles. He can take the risk.
“I-”
The bell rings.
She rolls her eyes in sync with his frustrated sigh. “Ugh, we're gonna be late again. We better go, sorry. Tell me later, okay?”
He follows her to class, dejected but not knocked down. He's going to tell her. Some time.
Nino smirks at him the second they walk in, looking between him and Marinette with a knowing expression as they take their seats. He keeps his eyes forward, resolutely ignoring his friend’s smug grin, but he can feel Nino’s eyes on him for a solid five minutes. And he knows, without a doubt, that Marinette isn't the only one blushing.